


Don´t Talk To Strangers

by notverypunkofme



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Blow Jobs, Drunk Harry, M/M, Non-Famous AU, Sweetheart Niall, and kissing, practically strangers, some more touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2015-02-13
Packaged: 2018-03-12 05:04:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3344651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notverypunkofme/pseuds/notverypunkofme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Non-famous AU: Harry is out drinking with friends and he dials Niall´s number on accident, asking for a ride home. Niall, sweetheart he is, comes to pick up Harry, and gets him home anyway, even though they are almost total strangers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don´t Talk To Strangers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sunshineflying](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshineflying/gifts).



> Thank you for the prompts. I hope I managed to fill this one alright, and you´ll enjoy it! :)  
> (it got sorta dirty in the process)
> 
> Spread the love not only on St Valentine´s Day <3

Harry´s leaning on the cold wall heavily, trying to focus on the phone screen. Typing in the right password is a pretty hard task, considering that he was already feeling mighty drunk three beers ago. So he´s being responsible. He´s gone out of the club, exchanging the hot, loud environment for a fresh air. He needs to call Liam though. Liam is the best, they live in the same area, and he´s the least likely to be annoyed and cross with Harry for bothering him at—at 2.15am. 

Zayn and Louis ditched him a few hours ago- or was it less? Harry´s not sure, it really is not easy to keep a track of the time when there´s alcohol instead of blood running through your veins. They went home to their respective girl-friends, catching the last train. And Harry, he can´t take three or four night buses to get home, he just can´t. He would probably end up falling asleep and missing his stop by a long shot or would get robbed or would leave his wallet on the bus seat or something like that. He´s pretty useless normally, let alone when fucking wasted. 

He finally gets to the contact list, scrolling down it half-blindly, vision swimming. He´s very glad that there´s the solid wall supporting him. A chuckle leaves his mouth for no apparent reason, while waiting for Liam to answer the phone. Yeah, he´s so sooo dunk.

“Hello?” Liam says in a very non-Liam way, probably all sleepy. Poor guy, Harry thinks briefly, not feeling guilty though, too far behind the point where he would.

“Hiiii,” Harry stretches out.

“Who´s this?”

“It´s Styles. Harry Styles.” Harry admits that his imitation of agent 007 is not the best. “Liam, be a good boy and come pick me up?” he adds pleadingly, putting on his best puppy face even though the person who he´s calling can´t actually see him.

“What- where are you?” 

Harry tells Liam the name of the club, and after being told to wait he waits. While sitting on the curb, he hopes that Liam is not getting ill or something, because he sounded really very odd on the phone. 

It can´t take more than 15 minutes, and there´s a car- definitely not Liam´s car- stopping just next to Harry, who jerks himself awake from a light slumber. He´s still sitting on the ground, his bottom cold and numb. 

“Harry?” The boy who just got out of the car says, stepping closer. And it´s not Liam.

“You are not Liam,” Harry slurs, forcing his sleepy eyes to focus.

“No, I´m not. I think you dialed a wrong number,” to boy says. He´s blonde and wearing a grey t-shirt, black Vans trainers on his feet. It´s hard to process anything else, Harry must admit, as he starts standing up, still not sure what to make out of the situation.

“I´m Niall?” the blonde offers, swiftly grabbing Harry´s arm and helping up when Harry wobbles. “We´ve seen each other a few times at a pub. I live next to Liam.”

Oh. Ohhh. It´s ´Liam´s friend Niall´. That´s how Liam saved the contact into Harry´s phone months ago, when he´d mention his friend Niall who is really fit and single. Harry, not very fond of matchmaking, never got to call Niall, even though he´s developed a slight crush on the boy from what he´d seen.

Harry groans, covering his face with his hand, turning away from Niall. This is not how they were supposed to properly meet.

“Hey, hey,” Niall touches him again, his hand soft but firm on Harry´s back. “This way,” and he ushers him to the car.

Settling down on the comfortable and plush car seat is the last thing Harry remembers.

* * *

When Harry wakes up somehow he knows it's still pretty early. He also knows that he's not it his own bed, because this one is bigger, the mattress softer and bouncier. The sick feeling in his stomach reminds him of the unholy amount of alcohol he consumed during the night, and Harry craves a big bottle of cold water like nothing else.

He dares to open his eyes, and to his surprise the dark blue curtains are closed over the window in the room, which is a sort of a relief. Because a bright light would kill him right now.  
There's a tall glass of a water standing on the little table next to the bed, a little pill next to it. He chugs the water greedily, swallowing the pill. He falls back to the pillows, a string of pictures from the night invading his mind. Harry groans out loud when he remembers his blonde savior. Niall. This is his place, his bed, and he just drank his water and ate his pill. Harry lifts up the blanket matter-of-factly; having a peek- he's wearing Niall's joggers. Which reminds him of the state he was at when Niall picked him up and brought him here. God, that was absolutely fucking embarrassing.

Harry wants to check his phone before he'll attempt to escape without having to meet Niall.

Getting out of bed takes him some time, his legs are a bit wobbly, and his head´s dizzy with the change of the position. His vision swims again when he bends down to pick up his rather neatly folded jeans and a t-shirt. There's no way he could've been in a condition to fold his clothes in the night. He's putting the awful-smelling clothes on, thinking of Niall's kind smile and gentle hands directing him in and out of a car.

It's a shame he'll never see the boy again.

Harry opens the door, wincing at the squeaky sound it makes, entering a kitchen area. He has no idea if Niall is at home or not, but he's in a serious need of having a wee. As he tiptoes to the first closed door he can see, in hopes for being it a loo, a voice behind him says:

"Good morning, you are up much earlier than I was expecting."

Harry literally jumps up, startled, turning around. He should have tried to climb out of the window earlier after all. Pussy.

"That's a cupboard," Niall says amusedly. "Bathroom's over there," he points down the hall.

Harry nods, mouthing a quiet thank you, thinking it can't possibly get any worse. He pees as quickly as possible, washes his hands throughroughly after, as well as splashing some water onto his face, stealing some mouthwash to kill the terrible taste. He doesn't dare to look in the mirror above the basin.

When he bravely comes back to the kitchen, he notices it's 9:30am, meaning he didn't sleep enough at all. Well he feels like that.

Niall's reading his thoughts.

"You didn't sleep enough, mate. We came back around three in the morning."

He's sitting on a chair now, sipping a tea or a coffee, a phone in his hand, looking very- very appealing. He is handsome, Harry decides again, remembering having a lot of these thoughts earlier in the- morning.

Niall's getting up again, walking over to the fridge.

"I have some tomato soup from Sainsbury's," he says with a head in the refrigerator. It gives Harry a chance to see his lovely rear. He cocks his head to get a better look at his bum, only to catch himself a moment later, standing straight up again. It's rude to be checking Niall out like this.

"Yeah, uhm, sounds good."

The blonde boy takes out two bowls, pouring the soup from a plastic tub there.

"I know it's still early, but you'll probably feel better after eating," he says.

Harry's hand goes up to his hair immediately, trying to smooth his wild curls blindly. He must look really bad.

"Was I sick, like, somewhere- inappropriate?" he asks tentatively, eyes darting nervously around.

"Nah," Niall says with a laugh, his eyes finally catching Harry's. "Only in the toilet. Was well aimed," he winks, obviously enjoying Harry's discomfort. He suddenly remembers Niall wiping his mouth with a wet flannel, his face too, and making him drink a lot water.

Harry huffs out a breath, hiding his face in in hands. He feels so sick with embarrassment he culd die. Right the moment. And Niall's been only sweet to him this whole time.

When he looks up again, he finds Niall already staring back at him from the other end of the kitchen. He quietly walks over to the boy.

"How can I pay you back?" He asks quietly, a blush already creeping to his face, not quite knowing where it all is coming from.

"What-what do you mean?"

"How can I pay you back?" Harry repeats suggestively, the need to do something back for Niall turning sexual for whatever unclear reason, and there's no way the blonde boy could misinterpret the offer. Harry takes the last few steps forward, stopping in front of Niall, letting their bodies align.

"I-" Niall huffs out a short nervous laugh, ducking his head so his forehead is almost touching Harry's shoulder. He can almost feel Niall's breath through the thin cotton of his t- shirt.

"I'm offering here, if you haven't noticed," he whispers into Niall's ear, catching his smell in the process. It's soft and clean, like fabric softener from Tesco's and an aftershave, mixing up with the distinctive smell of a boy- of Niall, which is a hundred times better than any expensive fragrance. And Harry can't get enough. He knows in that moment that he'll only want more and more.

He nuzzles the light hair around Niall's ear. "Maybe I can suck you off? Have you thought about it before?" He hopes that Niall has, nosing at the shell of his ear and then at the sensitive skin behind.

Niall's body is tense and his head is still hanging down so Harry can't see his face properly, but that doesn't put him off.

"Or I could let you fuck me." The mere idea sends shivers down his body, it's been a while since someone took him like that, pushed into him, made him take it. He's sure Niall would feel just perfect, would be gentle with him. He can almost see it when he closes his eyes briefly. "Would you like that, Niall, hm?"

"Jesus," the other boy exhales shakily, and then he's kissing Harry, taking him by a surprise. Harry thought it would take much more coaxing and dancing around to get Niall into an action. Maybe even a proper date or two.

But there's nothing shy or hesitant in the way the boy kisses him. Strong and demanding. He's in the charge of the kiss straight away, pressing his body into Harry's until he feels the cold wall behind his back, making Harry chase his tongue and biting his lips raw.

Harry wants to do the same to Niall, wants to tug on his lower lip with his teeth to see it go red and swollen. Only Niall's not giving him enough room, hands on his jaw, holding it, hips coming forward to press into his, and they are both undeniably hard. Harry moans at the contact, breaking away from the kiss. All his shame from before is gone, replaced with desire. He can't quite believe that Niall would be like this. Like- in charge.

"´m gonna blow you," Harry whispers, mouth dragging wetly across Niall's cheek, the boy nodding eagerly, one hand sliding into Harry's hair, keeping his hand there even when Harry gets down, kneeling on the hard kitchen floor. He's sure his knees are gonna suffer as hell, but he can't bring himself to care through the heavy haze of arousal.

He undoes Niall's fly swiftly, getting stuck only for a moment, because he always finds opening a button from the other side a bit tricky. He manages, and then Niall's dick is right there in his eye level, hard and stretching the grey cotton fabric of the boxer briefs Niall's wearing. They are tight, and he can clearly see the shape of his cock, a little wet patch where the head is. Harry brings one hand up, squeezing the length in his palm, just to feel it.

Niall's hips buckle and he groans. Harry looks up through heavy eyelids, biting his own lip. Because Niall looks already half-gone, flushed and dishevelled, one hand on the top of Harry's head and the other one balled in fist.

"Maybe we could like, swap places?" Harry suggests, afraid that the blonde's gonna trip over if he's standing without nothing to hold him up. Harry's fairly confident when it comes to giving a head.

So he pushes Niall a bit around, who takes the cue right away, standing with his back to the wall now, free to lean on it anytime. Harry really wants to make it good for him, because he's cute and kind and- hot. Really hot hot, standing there in a pair of simple jeans and plain underwear and a t-shirt, probably having no idea about any of this at all, about the effect he's got on Harry.

Harry debates whether he should tell him the truth, how hard he's just for Niall, and that he can't fucking wait to taste him, to worship him and make him come. On Harry, preferably. He decides against words, choosing actions instead, pulling Niall out of the boxes through the front opening and licking a long stripe from where the cock is sticking from the gap, to the tip of it.

Niall whimpers above him, as Harry starts licking the head teasingly. He wants to take the whole shaft in this mouth, to feel the weight of it on his tongue, to please Niall. But he also wants to tease him a bit, make him wait.

"Harry-" the blonde chokes off, hand gripping Harry's hair tighter. It makes him shudder violently.

Niall must take it the wrong way though because he loosens his hold. "Sorry. Sorry."

"´s alright. Do it again." Harry peers at him, giving him a quick reassuring smile before going back to work. This time he takes Niall's dick into his mouth, sliding down to the root until his lips touch the cotton of the briefs. He gags a bit, has to take a deep breath through his nose. It's not unpleasant though.

"Don't hurt yourself!" And there's a worry in the boy's voice, but he has a strong hold on Harry's strands anyway, holding him close to his cock, and Harry relaxes his jaw, letting him slide deeper.

He sucks with vigor, hollowing his cheeks and tonguing the underside of the dick, saliva coating his lips. Niall is moving his hips slightly, obviously trying to hold back. He's moaning brokenly and it sounds like wailing, although Harry knows those are cries of pleasure.

He's totally getting off on it himself, and it takes all of his willpower to not to touch his dick through the skinny jeans he´s wearing. Also he has to squeeze his eyes shut to prevent looking at the other boy, because seeing his flushed, aroused face would end Harry sooner than anything else. He hasn't come in his pants in a long time, but he sure as hell could now. So instead, he grips the back of Niall's thighs to hold on for a dear life, giving the boy a wordless sign to move.

When Niall starts moaning loudly, hips thrusting uncontrollably, it sends a strong jolt of arousal to Harry's throbbing dick. He also knows that Niall's about to come any second, which he confirms with breathless ´gonna come, can i come on you?'

Harry nods and moves away, sitting on his haunches, eyes focusing on Niall who takes his cock in his hand and starts stroking himself frantically, thrusting in his fist.

Harry waits patiently, murmurs something like 'yeah, c ´mon', taking in the way Niall is so overcome with pleasure the moment he starts coming, eyes a bit watery, huffing out sharp punches of breath. Harry opens his mouth, catching some of the come there. It lands on his lips and chin too, and he tips up his chin so the dark pink head of Niall's dick is brushing his lips on occasions. He's surprised that Niall keeps watching him the whole time of his orgasm, fighting the heavy eyelids and tracking the places his come lands, the little movements Harry makes. It's hot hot hot, and Harry want's to come too, so bad he's aching with it.

Instead, he licks his lips slowly when Niall's done, leaning back on the white wall, kinda sagging. Harry's unsure what to do now, so he busies himself with wiping the come off of his face and other random places with his t-shirt. He would love to take his cock out and wank or anything, really, just to come. The wait only makes him bloody harder, if that's even possible. But he's also starting to feel a bit awkward, like maybe it was not all that cool to blow a stranger, being so obviously into it and stuff, and a blush creeps into his face. Now it's not flushed only with arousal, but also embarrassment and he should probably get up and go home as fast as possible. Maybe Niall will let him get away with it, and hopefully they'll never meet again, and he could convince Liam to give him a break with this 'friend of his called Niall'.

He shifts a bit in an attempt to get up, dick still mostly hard, wincing at the taste in his mouth which is, well- Niall.

Second later, Niall finally moves too, bringing a hand back to Harry's curls, scratching his scalp lazily. Harry does not purr.

"You want to come too?" He asks, arching an eyebrow. "That would be only fair."

Then he pulls dazed Harry up and kisses him again, and Harry wants to pull back because he just gave him a blow-job, so 'gross'. Only Niall hums a content 'hmm' when their tongues touch, and Harry knows it's because he can taste himself , and that makes him moan and reach down to open his jeans.

"Yeah," Niall approves, rucking up Harry's t-shirt to reveal the tattooed torso to run his hands over the muscles there, and then bending down to lick at Harry's erect nipples.

"Shit," Harry curses at the sensation, finally getting hand on his dick, and starts tugging at it with a viscous speed. He's been hard for so long, so he knows it won't take much time. Even less with Niall sucking bruises on his pecs and scratching his short nails across his ticklish sides. Only Harry doesn't squirm at all, just concentrates on the amazing feeling pooling in his groin and going up up, on Niall´s encouraging little sounds and how fucking good the sensations feel when mixed up together.

His whole body is winded up as a string, just about to snap, but he can't let go. It might be the fact that Niall is a) practically a stranger, b) bloody fit and c) really fucking awesome all over, so you have to understand that Harry feels under a pressure. The wet sounds of him wanking and panting are echoing in the room, and it's all Harry can concentrate on, aside of squeezing his cock hard to make himself come, for fuck's sake. Everything's starting to be a bit too much, his wrist is aching and he's aware that he's shaking. That's when Niall must notice too, because he surfaces to kiss Harry's lips briefly and then he joins Harry at the task, going for palming his balls, rolling them in his hand, letting Harry's head fall on his shoulder.  
It takes only another minute, full of moaning and grunting from both of the boys, hands bumping into each other and Harry thinking he's gonna die from all of it, of how achingly good it feels- then he comes with a guttural groan, mouthing on Niall's shoulder through the shirt, leaving the fabric damp.

Niall keeps one hand on his hip, the other one still gently stroking him, or maybe just petting, and it's spectacular. Harry would like to stay in this position for another hour or maybe a day, but he takes a step away eventually, tucking himself back into his pants and trousers.

A nervous laugh escapes him before looking at Niall, who's watching him with a little smile.

"Uhm- that was, like," Harry starts nervously, scratching his arm, "it was- well I hope you liked it?" It comes out more like a question than he was intending.

Niall speaks in surprisingly light tone.

"If you take me out for a burger and a pint, we can do more."

And there's that. Harry laughs, because 'yes', tucking his hands into the pockets to keep from touching Niall again. There'll be plenty of time for that.


End file.
